Shit. Shit. Shit.

Shit I

GaaaaH! Damn you Nestle!

I've just realised why they no longer spell out the letters Y - O - R - K - I - E on the squares of Yorkie bars any more. The bastards have reduced the numbers of blocks of chocolate from six to five.

I suggest they change the name of my favourite guilty chocolate confection to "Nestle are a bunch of thieving baby-killing cock-heads". Then I'd end up with a bastard huge bar. Sorted.

Shit II

"There's only one language these people understand," is a bit of a standing motto of mine, "Crap through their letterbox!" Regular readers will also know that the arse/mail box interface is a regular, scatalogical theme on this site.

At last, the days of getting caught by the plod, trousers round your ankles, with your bare arse pressed against your sworn enemy's front door, are now over, thanks to the wonderful people at Fecalgram.

For a mere $24.95, a freshly squeezed turd will wing its way across the U S of A to the member of the Supreme Court of your choice.

Alas, on reading the FAQ, I find that poop-by-mail is still illegal in America (despite the fact that is is covered by the First Amendment, or something) and these are, in fact, faux turds.

Ah well, back to the cold, cold nights standing on the orange box and the all-sweetcorn diet.

Shit III

Every country gets the leadership it deserves. Oh God, America, you really fell for it, didn't you?

For those of you who share the world's despair, you may wish to consider a move to Canada.